A Midsummer Night Outing
by Red Tale
Summary: Who would have thought that the young turtles first outing would have been worthy of a horror story? Certainly Splinter was unprepared for this development. Halloween story.


A Midsummer Night Outing

As viewed by a young Michelangelo

By: Red Turtle

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Every Year I write a Halloween Story. This year I intend to write one every week. They will all be dark and disturbing, and if done right shake you to the very core. So prepare yourselves accordingly.. I suggest lining up a good lighthearted story to turn to afterwards so you won't be too damaged.

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His young mind had such limited experience he could not understand the concept of "sun", and was disappointed that he would not finally get to know today, for the sun was not going to be "out" when they were. Apparently the sun moved around quite a bit, it had a "schedule", and until they were much older they were not to be outside the same time that it was. They were young ninja's, and young ninjas, Master Splinter explained, only came out at "night" when the sun had left.

"Is the sun our enemy?" Leonardo had asked once, always taking everything so seriously. Michelangelo did not put things in terms of "enemy"; everyone was either a friend or an unknown.

"No, Leonardo, the sun is a very good thing. But it brings light with it, and we must stay in darkness, so that is why we avoid it."

This answer satisfied Michelangelo, and he did not understand why it didn't satisfy the others. Donatello in particular, was never satisfied with Splinters answers; they only aroused in him more questions. How was the sun good, for instance, how does it bring light, why must we stay away from light…although Donatello hadn't vocalized any of these questions, Michelangelo saw them bubbling just below the surface. But even knowing these questions existed did not upset Michelangelo. For him it was enough that Splinter knew.

And it was more than enough that tonight Splinter was taking them "outside".

Even without the sun, "outside" was going to be intense.

The past month consisted of training solely for this event. They practiced climbing ladders, silently and quickly, as Splinter explained this was key to the "outside". He stressed on them that they were to look to him and do exactly as he said, and specifically for this purpose he taught them sign language and gestures. It wasn't very difficult for them to learn his signals, but most of them they were unable to do themselves, as they had only three fingers. Soon, however, Donatello had modified the signs into a whole new language just for them, and Splinter had learned to read their style.

Finally they were deemed ready. Now they followed him, further from the lair than any of them had ever been before. Splinter showed them a red mark near their tunnel, one he had created himself a long time ago, so that they could find their way back by themselves…just in case.

Michelangelo had never been through a "just in case" but heard of it all the time. The whole reason they were taught ninjitzu, as far as he could tell, was "just in case".

They walked in silent darkness for a while passed that point, but Michelangelo kept his internal compass pointed in the direction of the lair. He did not want to be in a "just in case" scenario…

Master Splinter stopped.

"This is the spot", he explained in a whisper, "remember the way you came, if anything happens you must run back to the lair and hide. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master Splinter", they all chorused quietly.

"And you must make no noise from here on. Use all of the skills we have learned. If I detect any noise while climbing the ladder we will go back and practice again."

This sent a ripple of seriousness through them all. No one wanted to be blamed for delaying their first outing. Mike cast a particular warning look at Donatello, for he was the one of the four most likely to slip. Next to himself, that is.

Master Splinter ascended the ladder, and silently pushed open the manhole cover. Above, a circle of darkness a few shades lighter than the sewer shone down.

Mike had to catch himself from gasping in awe. That would have been noise.

They all began to climb, meticulously to avoid any possible noise. Mike was last, which was fine by him. He was too nervous to have Leo or Raph hurrying him along and possibly causing him to make noise. No, this pace was fine. It allowed him to slowly adjust his eyes to the outside darkness, his nose to the whiff of new smells coming, his ears to the faint buzzing roar nearby. He had never heard acceleration, nothing in the sewers went faster than a rat except sometimes water through the pipes, but that was rare and far away, this was constant and close.

Finally he emerged, biting his tongue to keep from crying out.

The smells alone made him dizzy, and he shut his eyes and covered his ears to focus just on them. This particular breeze contained such scents as apple pie, bubble bath, pizza, popcorn, bananas, egg sandwich, heat from a hair dryer, various trees and flowers, and rotten lettuce. These things which he would not know for many years later assailed him, things well outside the confines of the sewer where everything was masked with the scent of raw sewage.

Finally he opened his eyes to look at his brothers. Splinter was guarding them all, and observing their reactions as well. He looked very concerned.

Next to him Leonardo sat against a dumpster, eyes wide open, drawing deeper and deeper breaths until he was hyperventilating.

Across from him Donatello shifted carefully, quietly, through garbage, examining each piece.

Nearby Raphael looked out at the street, and when a car whizzed by he did not move. Leonardo however, skirted further back, bumping into a garbage can.

It was barely more than a scrape, but it was enough for Splinter. He gave the return signal, a downward hand gesture.

For a second none of them moved. Michelangelo blinked, thinking he had missed the signal. It couldn't be time already, could it?

But then Leonardo scrambled towards the hole and down the ladder. He was not as careful this time and twice a faint noise was heard. Splinter looked disappointed as he gestured again for the others to follow.

Mike started to get up. It was too overwhelming out here. He wasn't as scared as Leonardo, but he was ready to leave.

Donatello and Raphael only looked at the sewer entrance, then back at Splinter.

Splinter gestured again, third warning.

Michelangelo wanted to obey, but he was frozen in place watching Donatello and Raphael.

They did not move.

Not out of terror. At least, not the terror of the "outside" which had driven Leonardo back underground. It was the small, dark, nasty hole which they were expected to return and continue living in which terrified them.

Raphael's eyes narrowed in determination. Donatello's eyes opened in wonder.

Simultaneously, they shook their heads.

A small hiss escaped Splinter. He turned and looked at Michelangelo, and gave the gesture once more, in a very final way.

Michelangelo scurried to the hole, giving his two rebellious brothers one more glance before disappearing down below.

He found Leonardo waiting for them below, still trembling with fear but at least slowing his breathing down.

They didn't dare speak, but only looked through the small opening above them for the return of Splinter and their brothers.

Raphael's sudden appearance shocked them. He did not silently climb down but was thrown with such force that he knocked both Leonardo and Michelangelo down painfully.

Below all of them were panting now, between muffled sobs.

Above a loud scream pierced the air.

"Noooooooooooooooooooooo!"

The scream alone was enough for Michelangelo to burst loudly into tears. He hated to know other's pain, but the fact that it was Donatello screaming, Donatello who barely talked at all, and who never, never caused trouble…

The scream abruptly stopped. The sewer entrance grew dark as the cover was pulled back and Splinter joined them at the bottom, one hand gripping a struggling Donatello tightly by the neck.

With his free hand, he gestured for them to run back to the lair.

They ran, hearing something banging on the sewer cover behind them, then the cover loudly removed, and voices, voices that were not his families.

"That sounded like a kid!"

"It was definitely this way!"

"Someone call 9-11."

Although they had good practice running silently, they were so terrified that their feet splashed loudly in the sewage, and the outside (Michelangelo did not yet know "people") followed them.

Splinter suddenly darted off into a small side tunnel, grabbing Michelangelo and Raphael as he did, trusting Leonardo to keep up on his own.

From here they ran only a short distance, with no splashes. Splinter led them to a dark section in which to completely hide.

"Close your eyes", came the whispered command.

Michelangelo clamped his eyes shut, it wasn't that much different. He couldn't tell if the others did, of course, since his eyes were closed. He hoped so, because seeing what had happened with Donatello and Raphael disobeying…

He could see Donatello clearly in his head, with Splinter squeezing his neck as they ran, and his hands flailing uselessly against the grip. And they couldn't do anything. They couldn't free him from Splinter, and Michelangelo found that he didn't think that would have been right. As scared as he was at this moment, as voices and splashes surrounded them, he was more scared of what would happen back home.

Partly because he knew what would happen back home, and he did not know what would happen if these voices found them. The unknown did not scare him.

He could tell it scared Splinter, however, for they were all pressed against each other and he felt Splinter's trembles. If he laid his head against Splinters heart the sound was not comforting, the heartbeat was loud and fast.

For any kid, two hours would be almost an eternity. Michelangelo kept his eyes shut, but did not sleep, and this eternity was the longest most painfullest experience of his life, except that he would not remember it years from now.

Finally Splinter gave a horse, whispered command to open their eyes.

Silently they followed him out of the space they had been hiding, and all too soon they were back in the lair, with it's harsh light and bad smells, and quiet noises.

And bad scene. Michelangelo was sure there would be yelling.

He risked a glance at Splinter, and was shocked to see Donatello still clamped in his arms, still being nearly choked all this time, allowed just enough breath to keep him alive and not a particle more.

They all walked straight the turtles' bedroom. Splinter finally released Donatello onto their one bed they all shared and the others quickly got in beside him and wordlessly took over his care. Leonardo and Raphael took their place on either side of him, Leo whispering soothing words over and over and Raphael gently patting his arm.

Michelangelo took his place next to Leonardo, and watched Splinter, waiting for the yelling.

Splinter slowly settled into a rocking chair near their bed. Michelangelo realized that, as terrifying as this had been for all of them, Splinter was beyond terrified, in a way he could not begin to comprehend and could do nothing to fix. He could only watch helplessly as Splinter covered his eyes and cried.

The end


End file.
